Kiran Rao, a celebrated filmmaker in Hindi cinema, has a reputation for crafting narratives that are as introspective as they are impactful. Her second film as a director, Laapataa Ladies (Lost Ladies), India’s official entry for the 97th Academy Awards in the Best International Feature Film category, explores female identity and liberation in rural India.
During our interview, we delved into themes far beyond the film itself, discussing feminism, individuality, societal expectations, and even the role of technology and artificial intelligence in shaping identity and storytelling.
Rao’s warmth and intellectual rigor were evident throughout the interview, as she repeatedly praised the thoughtfulness, depth, and originality of the questions I posed—a gesture that underscored her openness to meaningful dialog. It also reflects her humility and groundedness – which have shaped the film’s simple yet impactful narrative.
The Metaphor of Being Lost
One of the core themes of Laapataa Ladies is encapsulated in its title, which translates to “Lost Ladies.” During the interview, I explored this metaphor, asking how the concept of being “lost” reflects an existential search for identity within a patriarchal society. Kiran agreed that the term “Laapataa” was meant to convey much more than the literal disappearance of the film’s characters.
“So the search for their own identity is, honestly, for most women, a luxury,” she shared. “You know, you don’t have the opportunity or the time to be able to do that. So it is something that is left unfulfilled, which we feel that every girl, given a chance, would love to do—would want to explore what she’s capable of and to find her own happiness.”
Subtlety as a Narrative Tool
Following up, I expressed my admiration for the film’s subtle portrayal of feminism, contrasting it with the more overt depictions common in other films. “I liked the subtlety here,” I noted. “It’s not over-the-top or in-your-face.”
Kiran explained that subtlety is central to her filmmaking style. “Audiences don’t need spoon-feeding,” she said. “Subtlety is often much more effective in conveying what we want to convey, rather than bashing someone on the head with something very overt or obvious.”
Humor as Liberation
In one of the more philosophical moments of our conversation, I asked, “Philosophically speaking, is laughter in this film also like a form of liberation? Does laughter create moments where the characters and even the audience can transcend through their inner immediate struggles?”
Kiran responded enthusiastically: “Yes, absolutely – that’s a great way to put it! It’s liberating to be able to laugh at things you have so long considered a problem. It’s empowering.” She explained that humor in Lost Ladies acts as a uniting and disarming force, breaking down patriarchal expectations and societal constraints.
A Dialog That Redefines Independence
I asked Kiran about a scene where the character Manju Mai delivers a powerful dialog: “Women can farm, women can cook, women can give birth to children and raise them. Why do we need men?” I shared how this moment resonated with modern women like me, especially in its exploration of the fear of being alone and the confidence it imparts. “What are we so afraid of?” I asked. “What is so frightening about being alone?”
Kiran credited the scene’s brilliance to her screenwriter Sneha Desai. “That amazing dialog is by Sneha,” she said. “She has an incredible way of encapsulating very big ideas into simple and beautiful dialog. My contribution was ensuring we had a character like Manju Mai in the story, which wasn’t there in the earlier draft.”
This scene encapsulates the film’s core message: women’s independence is not just possible but empowering as well.
Balancing Tradition and Agency
I noted the unique portrayal of the character Phool, who embraces traditional roles while finding her own agency, and asked Kiran how she achieved this balance. I further asked, “Many philosophers debate whether freedom is found in love or hate. Do women in Lost Ladies find liberation in their temporary estrangement altogether, or is the journey about reconciling individuality with societal structures?”
“Beautiful question! Everybody wants to run away at some point. But we are packed creatures. We belong in herds. We wanted to portray a girl who wants to be a homemaker and be part of a family but also finds the space to have her own personal identity,” she said. Phool represents the possibility of maintaining individuality while thriving within familial structures—a nuanced perspective on feminism as a celebration of choice.
Liberation in Mistakes
We also discussed the film’s portrayal of rebellion as a journey sparked by mistakes. Kiran emphasized that rebellion doesn’t always have to be loud or destructive; it can start with curiosity, with the courage to take a single step outside the prescribed path. It is more about encouragement than rebellion. “It’s not about smashing patriarchy outright,” she noted, “but about taking that first step, which can lead you in a radically new direction.”
This subtle yet revolutionary approach reflects the film’s core message: change begins with the smallest of actions, and these quiet acts of defiance can ripple outward to create a more liberated future.
The Role of AI in Storytelling
Taking a technological turn in our discussion, I asked Kiran, “There are some artificial intelligence tools coming up that can create an entire film and make it look sort of lifelike. Do you think we will need human actors in 10 years?”
Kiran reflected on the impact of AI in filmmaking but emphasized the irreplaceable essence of human actors. “AI does, in many ways, draw from human nature and expressiveness, which can be used to replicate actors,” she said. However, she was clear that AI lacks the intangible “soul” that actors bring to their performances. “I don’t think they’re going to replace actors for a very, very long time,” she affirmed.
Technology and Feminist Storytelling
I posed a speculative question: “How would technology, like social media, have changed the journey of the characters Phool and Jaya? Could it have connected them to modern feminism in new ways?” Kiran called this an “interesting” thought experiment, reflecting on how technology has fundamentally altered how we perceive identity and relationships.
“Access to technology gives women a new lens to question how they live and what they want,” she said. However, she chose to set Lost Ladies in a simpler time, focusing on interpersonal dynamics unmediated by modern gadgets. We mused about how Instagram might have transformed the characters’ lives, imagining their identities evolving in entirely new directions.
Lessons for Women
When asked about the takeaways she hopes women gain from the film, Kiran’s response was heartfelt: “Be kind to yourself. Give yourself a break. Give yourself a lot of love.” She stressed the importance of self-care, a theme that resonates deeply in a world where women are often expected to prioritize everyone else.
Final Thoughts
As our conversation drew to a close, Kiran expressed her gratitude for the thoughtful and philosophical nature of the questions. “I wasn’t expecting such beautiful questions,” she said, a compliment I cherish as much as her film’s subtle yet powerful portrayal of feminism.
Lost Ladies is not just a story—it’s a statement. Through humor, sisterhood, quiet rebellion, and the irreplaceable magic of human actors, Kiran Rao has crafted a narrative that resonates with women across the globe. It is a call to reclaim identity, celebrate individuality, and, above all, be kind to oneself. As India’s Oscar entry, the film carries a message that is both deeply personal and universally profound.
